Magic moments
by C-breezey
Summary: Abused by his parents and blatantly favoured over his twin brother, Harry becomes a permanent resident of our beloved castle. Canon is non-existent but will follow rough outline of the plot. An entirely different wizarding world awaits the brave reader.


The complexity and power of the human brain is taken completely for granted. We use but a little of its true force throughout our entire lives. The ability to annihilate nations, destroy death and to explore beyond the realms of our puny world all lie within the labyrinthine regions of this rather boring and grey piece of matter that resides within our skulls.

However, there are a few within our race who are able to tap into these limitless possibilities, though certain circumstances and catalysts must be present. One such individual was a Harry James Potter.

Harry James Potter was a child born to Lily and James Potter on the 31st of July 1980. He was a twin, his brother being a John Michael Potter. Harry had the most beautiful emerald green eyes that shone like beacons through his unruly coal black hair. He had inherited his father's aristocratic face but his eyes; they were his mother's through and through. His brother couldn't have been more different. He possessed his father's sapphire blue eyes, as deep as the ocean with his mother's wavy light copper hair. He also received his mother's charming and naturally attractive face. Both children were beautiful and talented; blessings upon their family.

But as with all things, change is a necessity and bears the fingerprints of Fate's handling.

For some unknown reason, John became his parent's pride and joy; he could do no wrong. He was cherished and adored by Lily and James who gifted him with anything and everything that they could think of, no matter where its location nor its price; their love had no bounds.

But as for Harry… Well, as the scales rose for John, they fell for Harry. He was plunged into neglect and cruelty; feeling neither a Mother's kiss nor a father's smile not even a loving hug or a playful ruffling of his hair. He was pushed to the side to make way for the glory that was his brother. And as a child he grew up feeling abandoned and alone in a world that saw only John.

The days only grew darker after the twins' fourth birthday.

John was playing with a massive collection of new toys that he had been presented with and somehow, rather unbeknownst to his parents, Harry had managed to scrounge one of the lesser known and rather more boring toys from amongst the mountain that John possessed.

But John eventually noticed. From spending four years getting his own way and being spoilt silly by his parents, he demanded that Harry give him back his toy. Harry, from some sense of justice or perhaps just childhood innocence, denied him this request and from this ensued a titanic war amongst the toy mountain where they fought over the plaything. John eventually let go and lifted a toy tractor and threw it with all his toddler might at Harry. But then something miraculous occurred; the tractor stopped in mid-air, several centimetres from Harry's face and to both of the children's amusement, it flew right back and struck John square in the face with a force that knocked him to the ground. A mighty cry flew from John that echoed throughout the room and down the hallway and before Harry knew it, his parents where in the room inspecting his younger brother's face. Whilst Lily held John close to her bosom, shushing his cries with pleas of love and many sweeties, James turned on Harry and for once Harry felt scared and frightened for he had never seen such a look on his father's face.

With an almighty slap, James sent Harry sprawling across the floor with the force when he had hit him in the face. At first Harry was shocked and then he felt the horrible stinging pain form the front of his head but before he could do anything, his father grabbed his t-shirt from the back and hoisted him up and threw him against the wall. James Potter then continued to beat his son Harry for the next two hours whilst Lily Potter, down in the kitchen, fed her son John vanilla ice cream with aeroplane imitations – much to his amusement.

The days lost their light for Harry Potter. From that afternoon forward, Harry was abused and punished for crimes that he did not commit, from just being present. He became a blight on his parents and was forced to become nothing more than a shadow within the Potter household.

The days, months and years that ensued completely annihilated Harry's childhood. He was forced to grow up very quickly and he learned early on that if he cried during his daily beatings then his father would take a sadistic delight in ensuring that he couldn't use his mouth so he eventually stayed silent during his scourging. He went to bed each night in his cupboard under the stairs with an abdomen resembling the rainbow from 'My little Pony'. Each morning, however, he awoke with his skin completely healed and rejuvenated from the merciless abuse. He never understood how it happened and in some misplaced sense, thought that perhaps his parents had done something to heal him while he slept.

However as horrible as this primeval treachery was, his mother and father frequently told him how useless and disgusted they were with him. The words were spat, like acidic snakes spitting their fatal venom into his blood stream and consciousness. And the poison built, wreaking destruction throughout his being every moment when his mind wandered as he stayed away from the others; which was most of the time.

He was pathetic, vile, hopeless. Nothing more than dirt and muck that they wiped from their feet when they came in from outside. He was a mistake. They only wanted one son; why did they have to be burdened by a nobody.

Harry did not have an enjoyable childhood and perhaps the worst was that Harry didn't even know why his parents hated him so. However he gave up this notion when he was told that he was nothing more than a mistake.

It was at the age of five that the latent powers of Harry's mind were finally accessed. The conditions were exactly right for it. He learned to be able to block the immense pain inflicted by his father. He was able to drown out the malice that his mother spewed at him. Though this had side-effects. James Potter noticed Harry's face was one lacking in emotion when he was being hit; he only hit him harder and faster and for longer, leaving him a shattered boy, barely able to stand and the blood dripping from his back where he had been lashed with his father's black leather belt.

His mother noticed as well that her words no longer had any effect on him and started beating him as well, slapping him continually around the face for even looking at her.

But Harry's mind continued to defend him from his domestic acrimony.

He grew up, a rather farcical way of putting it considering how lacking in growth he actually was, a frail and weak boy whose body was adorned with scars and signs of physical abuse. The earthly glow of his eyes faded, his hair lost its shiny sheen, and he physically grew very little – remaining a small child in comparison to his brother who flourished like a spring flower blooming from well-nurtured soil. His physical growth was right on target and even beyond it slightly, his blue eyes shone with the reflection of the seas and sky and his red hair glistened like a fire well-tended. The difference between the boys was uncanny. One could never place them as brothers.

But in one thing was Harry superior to his brother; His brain power. While his brother had difficulty remembering and reciting his alphabet and numbers; Harry would be listening through cracks in the door and after several times, remembering with far greater accuracy all the things his brother found troublesome. His brother also possessed a dislike for books; they had no value in his eyes. Harry treasured them like children. Or loved children should I say. He hoarded them under a loose floor board in his cupboard come bedroom. He possessed a natural curiosity of the world around him and often his thoughts dwelled on that moment when the tractor hit John in the face.

For Harry Potter did not know he was a wizard. He had never been told by his parents. He was always told that he was a squib, whatever that meant. Whenever his parents showed magic to John, Harry was sent scurrying with a punch to the ribs or a full-bodied slap to the face.

But yet again change occurs at the most unlikely of times, a vanguard of Fate's notorious plans.

On the twin's tenth birthday, John was down celebrating with his many friends including the Weasley family, for John was best-buddies with Ronald Weasley, one of the many Weasley boys whilst Harry was hidden upstairs and talked about amongst the adults of how much a repulsive and pathetic little boy he was. It was at this moment that James Potter felt the wards around his own house dissipate like smoke in a strong wind. Immediately alarms were blaring throughout the whole house and each adult withdrew their wand, ready to defend their children from this unknown assailant. The door was blasted from its hinges and an onslaught of spells flew through the gaping hole, striking several of the adults with unerring accuracy, sending them to the floor unconscious. James Potter, however, was no idle domestic wizard. He was trained as an Auror and had graduated at the top of his class and several of his friends who were also members of the wizard police force such as Sirius Black where within the birthday crowd and they began firing their own spells out through the doorway into the darkness of the evening sky, though no cries of pain reached their ears to confirm whether or not they had hit anything. The resident children were currently corralled behind Lily, Molly and some of the other mothers who looked ready to defend their charges until their dying breath and beyond.

Harry James Potter was peering through the banister of the stairs where he had a birds-eye view of the situation and his fear was increasing with every passing moment. Somehow he knew that after this day, all would change.

Within a second, all the windows on the lower floor burst open unanimously which caused the adults to duck out of reflex. Dark shadows poured in from outside, writhing and twisting like living clouds of smoke. As one they transformed into men and women wearing silver masks and adorned in black robes, pointing their wands directly at the adults who were gathered in the central dining room. The people in black easily counted above thirty.

"Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday… to you…"

A seductive quiet voice intoned from the remains of the front door. A tall man stood within the shadows cast by the house lights, his face completely cloaked in the darkness though his eyes; they gleamed like blood-filled rubies.

"Happy birthday dear Johhhhhn…"

And he stopped singing, to simply speak the words in his silk-laden hiss.

"Happy birthday to you. How lovely it is to see a happy and cheerful family on their son's birthday. Does fill one with a most… heartfelt warmth." The velvety words were inundated with dark sarcasm as he lightly chuckled.

"But wait one moment…"

At this, the darkened man strode forward into the light, revealing fully his physical features. His face was the palest that Harry had ever seen and his skin seemed stretched about his bones, like baking paper pulled to breaking point over a tray. His lips were a full red, rich and vibrant compared with the gaunt and ghost-like appearance of his face. He had wavy black hair, combed with an eye for perfection.

"You seem to be lacking a child. I was told that there were twins…" He glared at several of his surrounding lackeys, who physically cowered under the glare of their master's eyes.

"No matter. A plain child will have no bearing on my plans tonight." He said, almost to himself.

He resumed his seductive hissing. "I hope you don't mind us barging in on you like this. We simply wished to offer our own well wishes at this most joyous occasion."

At this, James Potter seemed to regain his voice.

"Voldemort! – _Ah, so that's his name,_ Harry thought – Get out of my house! Leave my family and friends alone you fucked up sadist!"

"Oh James. Such vitriol simply has no place amongst innocent ears…" At this he glanced at Harry, sending him a wink and with a flick of his ivory white wand, bound James Potter's tongue and disarmed him.

Harry stared in absolute shock and amazement. _He's a magician! _he thought.

"I suppose I best make this quick, shan't I? No need to further gate-crash the festivities. Though you may be missing you leading-man…"

"You will not have my son you freak!" burst from Lily Potter where she was standing in front of John. She had her wand in her hand, pointed directly at Voldemort.

Voldemort let loose another one of his little dark chuckles. "Oh quite the contrary dear Lily. I have come here for one purpose and I shall not leave until that purpose is complete. But I need not explain myself to you, you pathetic mudblood. I can smell your reeking stench from over here." The words fell, feather light and chocolately from his mouth with a laughing tone. His lackeys roared in amusement as the blood rushed to Lily's face in embarrassment.

Voldemort flicked his wand at Lily and it flew from her hand before she was magically forced to lie on the floor. All the adults followed suit, they were unable to cast spells against this stranger's bizarre allure.

"I shall indeed enjoy killing you all once I'm through with your son… And on that note…"

Voldemort's crimson gaze fell on John Potter and the boy felt a compulsion to look into the scarlet irises. "Not very intelligent are you… Perhaps a late developer. T'is a pity we shall never find out."

And before Voldemort raised his wand, Harry Potter leaped in front of his brother and his humiliated parents.

"No!"

Voldemort smiled. "So this is the twin. The boy that is never seen but always heard of. A waste of space, a stain upon the glorious Potter name. Harry James Potter. Truly amazing…" His head fell on its side, as if analysing some specimen. "I can see the pain like paint on the walls Harry. They tortured you like a guilty criminal. You were nothing but an animal to them, a beast of burden. You were treated like a piñata, thrown here and there and even now I can see the scars and bruises and the places where the broken bones have not set correctly. These are the obvious wounds. What of those hidden within the crevices of your thoughts? Hmm?"

At this, hatred welled up within Harry at his parents. He shouldn't be defending them. They had practically destroyed him. In that moment, he had an epiphany. He should just let them die like pigs to the slaughter; after all they would sacrifice him to save themselves.

Voldemort's piercing stare penetrated Harry's eyes.

His seductive smile only grew larger and his eyes all but glowed a bright red.

"Fascinating Harry. You are only ten and yet you possess a resistance. However, you are no match for me…"

And with a hardly discernible effort, Voldemort pushed past what was preventing his access and invaded Harry's most private of sanctuaries.

He witnessed the sheer brutality, the animosity, the utmost cruelty that Harry had been subjected to with a cold, heartless and clinical perspective.

He withdrew from the boy's memories. "My, my, my… James and Lily, you have been naughty. It's a case of pots and kettles isn't it…" He said in the utmost condescending tone. When he next spoke, it was practically dripping with darkness and seduction. "And you have the cheek to call me sadistic…"

His most loyal of followers knew that his present tone was more dangerous than any shout or cry. In their minds, silkiness = very, very bad.

"No matter. I'll just kill you as well. But how about a bit of poetic justice. I'm going to give you the choice Harry of who I kill first. Your mother. Your father. Or your brother. Over to you."

Voldemort only smiled at Harry. But Harry was otherwise occupied. A strange song filled his head; both happy and sad at the same time. Notes of birds singing at dawn and chirping at dusk, light and dark interwoven, gently flowing within his head. A single word came to him through the music.

_Don't…_

He shook his head, wanting so badly to end the life of his parents and brother. He hated them. He hated them so much he wanted to spit on their faces. His blood boiled at the thought of everything they had gotten away with.

But Voldemort took the shake of his head as a decline of the offer he had so graciously bestowed upon Harry. "Very well then. You have made your decision."

Harry glanced up at Voldemort, confused at his statement when he realised that the shaking of his head had been misinterpreted. Voldemort had pointed his wand at Lily on the floor where she had been crying silently but in a flash James Potter was on his feet, hurling curses at Voldemort. While the Dark Lord had been distracted by Harry, James had wordlessly undone the binding curse and had grasped Sirius' wand where it had fallen near him.

Voldemort smiled with glee as he batted away the spells with his wand and with his free hand, had cast some sort of charm that had James off the floor, hanging in mid-air and from James' struggling, seemed to be suffocating him. He then pointed his wand at the Potter patriarch.

"Avada Kedavra"

The shadows within the room lengthened and grew as an eerie green light gathered at the tip of Voldemort's wand. The lights of the house dimmed and diminished and with another chuckle, the spell spilled forth, arcing towards James Potter. The light itself seemed to be alive, a strange winged entity that flew like a bird of prey to its victim, a cold bitter wind blowing over the rest of them. And in that moment all went still. The death spell suspended in mid-air, Voldemort smiling maniacally and James Potter with his hands still struggling against his invisible assailant.

The power of Voldemort's curse reacted with something within Harry and from the depths of his being, in the farthest reaches of his blood, a particular combination of organic bases amongst the tendrils of his DNA responded to the stimulus and within seconds, millions of biochemical reactions occurred simultaneously with magical reactions and power surged from Harry and his hands became enclosed within a rosy red glow and they acted of their own accord, drawing runes and symbols in the blank air where they stayed, hanging suspended from the ground. Harry didn't know what was going on but the feelings of a rosy euphoria pervaded his senses and he enjoyed immensely whatever was going on.

Time resumed in what felt like several minutes or seconds. Harry never knew.

The death spell collided head on with the glowing symbol and with a colossal roar that shook the house from its foundations, both the spell and rune disappeared in a flash of white light. The shockwave that resulted threw any person standing from their feet into the air and the power pushed Voldemort's servants from the house, literally forcing them to apparate away.

The house was in ruins. The walls were cracked and anything that was breakable lived up to its purpose. All residents within the home were unconscious and this was how it was found approximately 37 seconds later when five audible pops heralded the arrival of an old man and four other individuals.

Albus Dumbledore surveyed the destruction of the Potter Household with barely disguised horror as he spotted the body of one Harry James Potter lying crumpled against the wall, covered in dust and rubble. He rushed over, with the immediate drawing of his wand, and started casting spells on the young Mr Potter.

He lifted the boy with a levitation charm and became aware instantaneously of his lack in weight for his age.

"Minerva, Filius, Pomona, Severus. Obliviate them all and replace their memory with this one." Albus lifted his wand. An inky light seeped from it and coalesced into a translucent sphere that bobbed and floated in the centre of the room.

Each of the four drew, with a coaxing from their wand, shards and threads of the memory sphere and placed them within the obliviated persons.

"Fawkes…" Albus whispered. And at once a glorious bird flew through the window, bathing all in a warm glow. He settled on the shoulder of Albus and looked at the small boy, unconscious in Albus' arms where he had been bestowed by the charm. The phoenix began to sing, a sound that caused the other four to pause in their work and listen, enraptured in the music that was beauty incarnate. After several seconds of the phoenix' song, Harry's cheeks took on a more healthy glow. Albus smiled and patted his old friends' back. "Thank you Fawkes. Please ensure that there are no encroaching Death Eaters." And with a final cry, the bird leapt from Albus' shoulder and flew from the room.

"Albus you must come see this!" Filius cried from the remains of the front door for they had entered from the back.

Albus rushed over, easily keeping a secure hold on the immensely undernourished ten year old.

Black robes lay in an exact figure, along with a white ivory bone wand that was twisted like a snake, placed where a hand should be and burnt into the ground was a shadow of some sort in the exact shape of a man.

Albus' eyes glowed with some nameless emotion. "Voldemort has been destroyed." And from his four companions there were sharp intakes of breath along with Pomona wiping the sides of her eyes to clear them of tears. "But only temporarily." Albus closed his eyes. "He will return."

"Albus, the Potter boy has something on his forehead…" Severus murmured.

And indeed, after Albus had lifted his fringe, a second round of inhaled air exuded from the five.

A thin scar, in the shape of a lightning bolt, adorned his forehead. "Fascinating…" Albus muttered, the cogs and wheels turning in his great head.

After several seconds he raised himself from his musings and faced his companions. "Minerva, take the boy back to the school. Ensure that he is tended to by Madam Pomfrey. The rest of you, accompany Minerva and safeguard her passage. We cannot be too careful." He handed the boy over into the able arms of Minerva McGonagall. "I shall return to the castle shortly. Meet in my office in one hour. And remember: the utmost secrecy must be maintained." And after unanimous head-nodding the four walked out and apparated from the site, leaving Albus alone.

He regarded the ruins with an analytical eye and with a sweep of his wand replayed the events that the walls had borne witness to. _People always ignore the walls_, he mused quietly in his head. _They are often the greatest of witnesses_. And he saw the entire event, clear of bias and opinion. When he had seen the rune appearing from mid-air and Harry's glowing hands he started with shock.

And he chuckled in his grandfatherly manner for a good minute or two.

"Oh Harry. I think I'm going to enjoy having you at the school."


End file.
